


Deadly Choice

by Angelwithwingsoffire



Series: 30 Days of Writing [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Multi, Sorry guys, i kill someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwithwingsoffire/pseuds/Angelwithwingsoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was having a panic attack. He couldn’t breathe and his world was crashing down around him.<br/>“Do it.” The King hissed. “Do it or you all die.”<br/>Stiles shook his head, trying to get rid of all the fuzz. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He was lost inside his own head as the words kept repeating themselves.<br/><em>One dies so the others may live.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadly Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning everyone there is death ahead. It is a shooting in the head.

Stiles was having a panic attack. He couldn’t breathe and his world was crashing down around him.

“Do it.” The King hissed. “Do it or you all die.”

Stiles shook his head, trying to get rid of all the fuzz. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He was lost inside his own head as the words kept repeating themselves.

_One dies so the others may live._

*

“I can’t believe we’re done!” Stiles exclaimed happily, jumping up in the air with a spin. “We’re done! We’re done! We’re done!” He laughed, nearly faceplanting as he lost his footing on a landing but Boyd caught him with a fond smile.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” Boyd smiled.

“Nah.” Stiles grinned. “I’ve got my big, strong werewolf to catch me when I fall.”

Boyd rolled his eyes, setting Stiles back on his feet. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re adorable.” Stiles declared, leaning in to kiss him quick before skipping off to join Scott’s celebration in the middle of the clearing, near the bonfire.

“You two work well together.”

Boyd looked over to see his alpha smiling at him. “Like you and Scott?”

Derek laughed. “Scott and I have a…special relationship.”

“You mean the two of you fight for alpha dominance and fuck until you pass out.” Boyd corrected.

Derek stared at him. “I always forget how much you and Erica are alike.”

Boyd smiled. “Best friends tend to share traits.” He shrugged. “Look at those weirdos.” He nodded towards Stiles and Scott who were dancing and singing, both of them slightly drunk.

“They’re basically brothers. They have a lot of the same traits. But that doesn’t make them the same.”

Boyd nodded in agreement. “They’re both weird. And lightweights.”

“There’s a reason I kept the wolfsbane infused stuff away from all of you until graduation.” Derek told him. “Scott can’t hold his liquor worth a damn.”

Boyd laughed, taking a swig of his own wolfsbane infused beer. “They’re gonna need help getting back to the house.”

Derek shrugged. “Scott doesn’t weigh that much and I doubt Stiles does either.”

“No the problem with Stiles is that he’s a grabby drunk.” Boyd told him. “I’ll eat his lacrosse sock if he doesn’t stick his hands down my shirt when I’m carrying him home tonight.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“Hell no those things reek like hell itself.” Boyd grimaced. “It’s horrible.”

Derek smiled. “Well I’m sure you’ll win the bet. He’s already grabby and he hasn’t stopped drinking yet.”

“He ain’t even drunk yet. He’s only got a buzz going. It’s worse when he’s drunk. And don’t even get me started on the hangovers.”

“That bad?”

“You have no idea.”

“That’s the nice thing about Scott.” Derek told him. “His healing prevents a hangover in the first place so I don’t have to deal with that.”

“Lucky.” Boyd sighed. “He’s annoying as fuck when he’s hungover.”

“And yet you continue to love him.” Derek smirked.

“God knows why.” Boyd groaned, taking another gulp of beer.

“I’m adorable as fuck that’s why!” Stiles shouted.

“Scott no eavesdropping!” Derek shouted back, knowing his boyfriend was telling Stiles everything they were saying.

“It’s fine.” Boyd smiled. “It’s pretty true. He’s adorable and I love him. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s never all there is.” Derek told him with a smile. “Never.” When Derek said that, he didn’t think he’d be as right as he was.

Erica came running out of the woods. “Run!” She screamed. “RUN!”

The pack was immediately in mass chaos. All of them had been drinking so none of them were completely sober. Boyd and Derek were entirely focused on getting Stiles and Scott out of the way that neither one of them noticed the creatures advancing on them until they were grabbed by the backs of their necks and lifted from the ground, forced to watch and unable to help as Scott and Stiles were tackled to the ground and pinned.

Derek roared and Scott answered before the creatures hit their heads and they were silenced. No one else spoke. One by one, each one of them was knocked out, unable to help the others before them.

*

Stiles woke up to a burning headache and swimming vision. “Boooyyyyddddd.” He whined. “Headache.”

“He isn’t here.”

Stiles jerked his head up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, his adrenaline allowing him to ignore the headache. “Who the hell are you?”

“Open your eyes and find out little human.”

Before opening his eyes he took stock of what was happening. He could feel his body now, aching and throbbing, tied up to a chair with some sort of soft rope or cloth. His wrists and ankles were rubbing bare on it but it wasn’t rough enough to take his skin off. Stiles opened his eyes and blinked away the blurriness before focusing on the figure standing in front of him.

Stiles’s jaw dropped open slightly at the sight. The figure was tall, thin, skin of dark bark with beady black eyes and a slit for a mouth. It’s head was cocked and it’s face slit was turned up at the corners in a creepy little smile. “I didn’t know you were real.”

“Oh we are very real.” The Dryad smirked. “And you and your pack have been very bad people. You must pay.”

“What did we do to you?” Stiles demanded, blinking hard to keep the hangover at bay.

“You took our homes and destroyed them.” The Dryad hissed in anger. “You destroyed and killed us for your own gain. You must pay.”

Stiles thought back at what they’d done and his eyes widened when he remembered. “You mean when we tore branches from the trees to kill those witches.”

“Yes.” He hissed. “You tore us apart when you could’ve chosen other trees.”

“We didn’t know you were here.” Stiles told him, trying to get his pack out of the blame and out of the Dryads hands alive. “If we had known I swear we wouldn’t have done it. I swear.”

“Swearing holds no power on us. You will pay for your transgressions.”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak but a high-pitched whine echoed through the room, seeming to come from the walls.

The Dryad looked up to the ceiling at the sound and then smiled again. “Everyone is awake. It is time.” The Dryad stepped forward, raising up hand and slashing through the ties on Stiles’s ankles, ties he could now recognize as forest vines. “Behave.” The Dryad warned before cutting the ties on Stiles’s wrists as well.

Stiles tried to fight, tried to get his hands up and get some sort of attack in, but the Dryad just grabbed his wrists in one hand, a vine snaking off his arm to wrap around Stiles’s wrists, before lifting him up and carrying him by the back of his shirt out of the room.

Stiles tried squirming and twisting out of the Dryad’s grip but to no avail as the dryad carried him into a huge throne room and dropped him to the hard ground in front of the throne. Vines immediately sprung up from the ground and wrapped around his knees to keep him kneeling and pinned his arms to his sides as well.

“Stiles.”

Stiles looked to his side and saw that the lumps he’d assumed were rocks were actually his pack mates, all kneeling like he was. Boyd was on the end, the farthest from Stiles he could possibly be, but he was straining towards Stiles.

“I’m fine.” Stiles assured him. “Are you all okay?”

“What do they want with us?” Erica asked.

“To make us pay.” Stiles answered. He looked to his left as someone new was dropped to his side and then leaned as far as he could to make contact with Scott. “Scottie? You okay?”

Scott nodded, looking up. His face was bruised and he looked beaten. “I was the first to wake up. My guard had some fun.”

Stiles could hear Derek growling.

“Don’t start that.” Lydia warned. Her hair was a tangled mess but her eyes were bright with fury. “We need to not piss them off anymore than we already have.”

“I agree.” Stiles said. “My guard was very adamant that he must pay but maybe their leader will be a bit more reasonable.”

“I doubt it.” Jackson sighed. “My guard was just as adamant about it and he made it seem like everyone of their kind wants us dead for killing their kin.”

“We’ll still try.” Stiles declared, trying to keep his pack’s morale up. He didn’t want them losing hope now.

There was another thump down at Boyd’s end and Stiles snapped his head over to see Isaac sitting up, bound just like the rest of them. “You okay pup?” He called down.

Isaac nodded slowly. “Dad did worse more than once.”

Stiles didn’t want to think about what Isaac’s dad had done, not when Isaac’s face was bruised and he was definitely favoring his right side. Stiles could guess Isaac had broken ribs.

“Why aren’t we healing?” Boyd asked, looking at Stiles.

“Dryads are powerful.” Stiles answered. “They draw their power directly from the earth or the tree they’re bound to. They’re stronger than us so you aren’t healing as fast.”

“What’s going to happen to us?” Isaac asked.

“We don’t know.” Boyd told him gently, leaning over to rest his shoulder against Isaac’s. “But we’re all going to get out of this alive. We’ll all be fine.”

“Not true.” A hissing voice came.

All the Dryad guards in the room bowed as another Dryad stepped out from behind the throne. This one looked just like the others except he was made of white bark, probably tied to a birch tree, and there was a thorny crown resting upon his head. He swept forward and gracefully sat down on the throne, still looking down at the pack.

“You killed my people.” The king, for that’s what he had to be, sneered. “Now you must pay.”

“There goes that theory.” Stiles muttered.

“SILENCE!” The king roared. “You have been brought to trial at the court of the dryads and I find you guilty on all charges.”

“What?!” Stiles exclaimed. “We didn’t even get a chance to say our side of the story.”

“This is not your puny little human world where everything is discussed before a decision is made.” The king whispered, glaring at Stiles and speaking with a cold voice. “You. Are. Guilty. Now you will pay.”

Derek and Scott’s eyes were glowing, their wolves fighting against the Dryad King’s dominating voice.

“Don’t fight.” Lydia whispered. “Let us talk our way out.”

“Bring out the gun.” The Dryad King ordered.

The pack all looked up and around as another Dryad walked in carrying an ornate pillow with a gun top.

“A Glock 22.” Stiles whispered, automatically categorizing the threat presented. “15 rounds in the magazine, easy to reload, favorite of police forces. Also of me.”

“Shhhh.” Scott told him.

“This is to be your punishment.” The King declared. He looked at Stiles and raised his hand. The vines wrapped around Stiles moved and forced him to his feet and then pushed him forward. “You were the one who told your pack to rip the branches from our trees.”

“I didn’t know they were yours!” Stiles tried to explain.

“Silence!” The King roared again. “Do not attempt to rid yourself of the charge. You are guilty and you must be punished to keep the peace of this forest.”

“Then kill me and be done with it.” Stiles told him. “Just let them go.”

The King smiled. “I’m not going to kill you.” He tossed the gun out and Stiles automatically reached out to catch it, sighing at the familiar weight in his hand. He’d become familiar with guns in the last years as the pack had been forced to fight against the threats that came to try and take the town. He recognized this gun as his. The runes on the barrel were protection runes. They usually made him feel safe. But he didn’t have a good feeling about the gun being in his hand this time.

“That gun was recovered from the place of carnage where you killed my kin.” The King told him. “There is one round left. You must take that gun and shoot of one your own and then you and the others may walk out of here alive.”

“I can’t.” Stiles gasped.

“One dies so the others may live.” The King smiled. “I believe that was the excuse your alpha there attempted to use to explain your killing of the Dryads.”

Stiles looked at Scott, who gave a weak smile. “I tried.” Scott whispered.

Stiles looked back up at the King, his vision started to blur as his breathing kicked in. He couldn’t. He can’t.

*

Stiles was having a panic attack. He couldn’t breathe and his world was crashing down around him.

“Do it.” The King hissed. “Do it or you all die.”

Stiles shook his head, trying to get rid of all the fuzz. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He was lost inside his own head as the words kept repeating themselves.

_One dies so the others may live._

“I can’t.” Stiles whispered again. “I-I can’t kill them.”

“Then you will all die.” The King told him. “Make your choice human.”

“Kill me.” Derek told him.

“Don’t you dare.” Scott snarled. “Derek, I can’t function without you.”

“You’re an alpha.” Derek reminded him. “You have the pack. You’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Scott repeated, tears starting to fill his eyes. “I can’t. I won’t be fine without you.”

“I’m not killing you Derek.” Stiles said. “I can’t hurt Scott like that.”

“Then shoot me.” Jackson volunteered. “I know you’ve dreamt of it.”

“Don’t you dare.” Lydia growled.

Stiles shook his head again, seeing the fire light in Lydia’s eyes. “I won’t hurt Lydia either.”

“Me.” Isaac said. “I don’t have anyone. I’m alone.”

Scott growled again.

“He’s protective of you.” Stiles explained with a small smile. “I won’t do that to him. Not after he nearly lost you against the giants last spring. I won’t let him hurt like that.”

“Me.” Erica said. “I’m nobody’s.”

“You’re mine.” Stiles told her. “My Catwoman, remember?”

“I’m not important Stiles.” Erica insisted. “Just shoot me and get the others out of here.”

Stiles shook his head. “You took the bite to have a good life, I won’t end that.”

Stiles looked at the only member of the pack that hadn’t spoken yet.

“You know what I’m going to say.” Boyd whispered.

“I won’t kill you Boyd. I can’t.” Stiles’s voice broke. “I just can’t.”

“You have to.” Boyd spoke softly, his head bowed. “You’ll hurt for a while but it’ll get better. You can survive without me.”

“I can’t.” Stiles told him, tears in his eyes. “I won’t be able to live without you.”

“Hurry up human.” The King snarled. “I grow bored of your petty emotions.”

“One dies so the others may live.” Stiles whispered, turning away from his pack to look at the King. “One dies so the others may live.”

“That’s what I said.” The King confirmed.

Stiles nodded, looking back at the pack. Everyone had tears in their eyes. No one wanted to die and no one wanted anyone else to die either. “One dies so the others may live.” Stiles repeated again. He gave a small smile. “Goodbye guys. I love you all.” Before anyone else could move, before they could shout or lunge for him, Stiles raised the gun, stuck it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

Boyd roared in pain as he felt their bond sever. Scott and Derek joined in as they felt one of their betas die. The vines vanished and all the wolves dove forward, towards the King, but the throne room vanished and they crashed into the trees. Stiles’s body was on the forest floor near them.

Boyd crawled over from the tree he’d hit and pulled Stiles’s head into his lap. “Please.” He begged, tears running down his face. “Stiles please. Why? Why would you do this? Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone again.”

Scott walked over to the body and feel down to his knees opposite Boyd. “I don’t understand why he would do this.” He whispered. “I don’t understand.”

“He didn’t want to kill any of us.” Boyd whispered. “He’s hated himself ever since the Nogitsune and it only got worse when the necromancer used that leftover darkness to bring Erica and I back to life as his slaves. He didn’t want to hurt any of us again.”

“He left us.” Scott whined. “He left and that hurts so much worse.”

Boyd nodded in agreement. His body shook as he tried not to sob.

The rest of the pack joined them. Derek knelt down and leaned against Scott in silent comfort. Erica and Isaac knelt down by Boyd to offer their quiet support. Jackson held tight to Lydia, staring at the pool of blood on the ground and the one growing on Boyd’s pants. Jackson was in shock. He’d never thought Stiles was brave enough to die for love. But apparently, he was the one most willing to die. All of them had offered but none of them had really wanted Stiles to say yes and raise the gun at them. But Stiles didn’t even hesitate. He’d just raised the gun, pulled the trigger, and ended his life so that the rest of them may live.

Jackson threw his head back and howled, long and low and filled with remorse and pain. Every wolf in the clearing joined in, raising their heads to howl at the cold moon to announce their loss that night. And people in the town who heard that mournful howl would never understand why they suddenly felt like crying but when the Sheriff’s son was found dead the next morning, they knew that something, someone, had been there and they had lost their love that night. But cry they did, for the Sheriff and for the poor black boy that hadn’t smiled before the Sheriff’s son had gotten a hold of him and who never smiled again once he was gone.


End file.
